


Moulin Rouge End Scene

by scythequeen



Category: Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Character Death, M/M, Nellis, Parody
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-13
Updated: 2010-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-13 01:11:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scythequeen/pseuds/scythequeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like it says on the tin. The end of the movie retold as Nellis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moulin Rouge End Scene

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Dat Cry](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/22237) by deliciouslimes. 



> Written as a response to related artwork by Deliciouslimes

"Oh man, Nick did you see that? That guy was all ready to just shoot me dead with that gun and then Coach comes out of nowhere and is all 'hell no' and cleans his fuckin' clock!"

Nick just laughs and smiles, pulling his excited lover into a kiss. "I saw El, I saw."

"Well come on, best be getting ready for curtain call. Lot of folks waiting out there to see ya." Ellis takes his hand, leading him down the stage.

They manage to take all of three steps when Nick feels the room start spinning. He stops, a wheezing gasp escaping him, because it's suddenly impossible to catch a breath.

"Nick?"

The gasp turns into a coughing fit and he feels his legs give out.

"Nick!" Ellis is quick to catch him, lowering him gently to the floor. He cradles his head as he continues to cough. It sounds horrible, thick and wet, mixed with short gasps as Nick desperately tries to suck in air. "Darlin', Nick, what's the matter?" Then Ellis sees the blood coming down in a thin trickle from the side of Nick's mouth. He feels a chill roll over his body. "Help! Quick, somebody call a doctor!"

There is the sound of pounding footsteps as several people hurry offstage.

Nick's eyes lock onto Ellis' and he manages to rasp out "Sorry, El... so... sorry."

"Hush now. Hush. Don't talk none. You're gonna be fine. Doctor's on his way, he'll patch you right up and you'll be fine." He tries to smile down at his love to reassure him but his eyes are brimming with tears.

The coughing has stopped and the gasping has died down to labored pants. Their eyes are still locked but Nick's seem to be losing focus, beads of perspiration shining on his brow.

He speaks again in a soft whisper. "Cold... Ellis... hold me."

Ellis draws Nick up as close to him as he can, tucking his head into the crook of his neck, and rocking him back and forth slowly. His eyes dart over the space in front of him, wide and frightened because he has never seen Nick so weak, so vulnerable. "I love you." his voice trembles as he leans Nick back enough to plant a soft kiss on his lips.

Nick attempts a smile but it's small and thin, smeared tear-stains catch the dim lights and shimmer on his cheeks like glitter. "El, you're going to have to... go on without me."

Ellis just shakes his head, bottom lip quivering.

"Tell... tell our story."

And with that, the last of the boy's resolve breaks, tears flow freely down his face and soft hiccuped sobs spill from his lips. Nick brings a hand up to cup his face and continues.

"And you better make it long, and beautiful, and more exciting than any dumb Keith story. You have to promise me... promise me you'll tell it. So I know... you won't... won't forget me." He sucks in a last shuttered breath and then is silent.

Ellis grips the hand that has fallen from his cheek and places small shaking kisses on the older man's lips over and over again as the light fades from those beautiful emerald eyes he has loved so much.

The penniless mechanic clutches his dead beloved tight against his chest, rocking him as he had before. His broken sobs grow louder and louder building into a heart wrenching wail that tears through his throat and brings a shiver to the dozens of onlookers who still remain backstage. Ellis doesn't care, he is deaf and dumb to them. All that maters, all that has ever mattered is laying limp in his arms.

Past the thick red curtains, oblivious, the audience continues applauding.

Months pass, months where Ellis speaks hardly a word to anyone. Until one day while waiting for his beer at a bar he frequents (though admittedly less now that he has given up trying to drown his pain with alcohol) he turns to the bartender and asks in a soft voice, "I ever tell you... about my lover, Nick?"


End file.
